


pushing away

by bangin_patchouli



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Canon Universe, EXO - Freeform, Inspired by Real Events, KaiSoo - Freeform, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, aka jongin's extreme muscles, its alright, jongin is Sad, kyungsoo is sad for jongin, lapslock, no protection uwu LMFAO, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 15:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangin_patchouli/pseuds/bangin_patchouli
Summary: "do you want me to make it enough?"-kyungsoo wishes he had the ability to make it better; nearly impossible. nearly.





	pushing away

* * *

-

      “you’re working too hard.”

      kyungsoo is standing in the back of the practice room, the gray canvas wall seeming to sink behind him. jongin is standing in front of him in the middle of the room, seeming to sink as well. his back faces kyungsoo, _heaving_ up and down under his self-oppressive breaths, his thin ripped t-shirt stuck to his skin as he sweats out his feelings, pours out his everything into the floors as he moves; but he’s standing still now. his head hangs, like kyungsoo’s heart hangs as he watches jongin and his blind actions to please everyone but himself. kyungsoo hates the brawn he sees; it’s a slash in the face of the mona lisa, it’s debris in the midst of a paradise, a stain on an otherwise spotless white surface. it makes kyungsoo want to lock the door to the studio and lose the key.

      “i’m not.” as jongin turns, as his face is made seen to kyungsoo, kyungsoo’s heart sinks, a stone in the ocean of his chest, because he looks as if he’s no longer inside himself, like he’s stored himself away somewhere inside his head, waiting for when it’s safe enough to come out again. and even as the words come out of jongin’s mouth, the two managing to stumble over each other, everything contradicts itself because _yes, i am_ and _go away_ mix together to spell out _help me_ in the scrambled words written over jongin’s face.

      “please don't do this,” kyungsoo says, and he knows as he does he’s taking a chance, he's throwing a dart on the dart board of jongin’s heart, hoping to hit _love me_ , but knowing damn well he might hit _don’t touch me_.

      but it’s always been _touch me_.

      “i’m not _doing_ anything, kyungsoo, fuck,” jongin utters the last part, his voice coming out like steam, tingling into a burn over kyungsoo’s skin. “why do you always try to figure out what’s going on inside my head?”

      and that comes out like a question that isn't directed at kyungsoo, like verbal hands thrown up to the sky in cold, cracking desolation, but kyungsoo answers jongin’s question.

      the answer comes out in two steps toward jongin and a hand outstretched naturally, hesitantly, a simple, steady touch to jongin’s damp, quivering wrist, a blink of his wide eyes up to jongin’s morose, hooded ones, and a single soft word past the pink of his own lips.

      “because.”

      kyungsoo lets his hand enclose and extend up jongin’s arm, feeling a subtle satisfaction at the silent permission he’s given. he can feel jongin’s heartbeat in the pulse under his skin. it feels like it’s skipping, like a record thats been abandoned, and kyungsoo blinks into the realization that jongin _is_ that record, that record that’s trying to play its song to an an empty room, but it isn't working. kyungsoo inches his fingers around territory that’s familiar but dangerous, covered in tempting fruits and sinkholes. he’s watching his movement just as much as he’s watching the outcome on jongin’s face as he trails his hand from the hard bone and muscle of jongin’s shoulder to the lean tensity of jongin’s waist, letting jongin’s body react under the faint touch of his traveling fingers. jongin isn't letting himself out yet, he's making damn sure that his cage stays locked, but kyungsoo knows he has the key. he knows he's turning the key into the rusted lock of jongin’s cage of sentiments when jongin’s eyes hide themselves behind eyelids and jongin’s head falls into the dip of kyungsoo’s adjacent neck.

      “it isn't enough,” jongin says, voice purposefully muffled against the stiffness of kyungsoo’s shoulder. kyungsoo doesn't know what _it_ is. is it this pressure, the one that’s taking jongin’s state of self, inch by inch? or is it the forceful hands of muscle exertion that have promised him acceptance and happiness, even though it’s quite clear that the hands have lied? or is it the fact that kyungsoo, or anyone else jongin’s thinks he can’t put his faith into, is too far away? or is it kyungsoo’s hands, failing to trace enough invisible, consoling marks over the skin that jongin seems to hate so much?

      “do you want me to make it enough?” kyungsoo says this with his mouth so close to jongin’s neck that he feels the shivers on jongin’s skin with his lips when the words hit his ears.

      “how can you?” with a touch from his fingers on jongin’s nape, kyungsoo can see his eyes again, the blueness behind him taking over the color of brown that matches everything about him and making kyungsoo’s fire burn a little hotter. but jongin is losing his heat faster and faster, and kyungsoo can feel his through the hand he has under jongin’s shirt.

      “like this,” kyungsoo whispers.

      now he’s pushing forward, and jongin’s lips are so familiarly warm against his own. he’s transmitting everything jongin needs, everything he has, through the absence of space between their bodies, feeling it in the form of friction and the enervated scrape of jongin’s fingers over his t-shirt. he pushes, leading, one hand under jongin’s jaw and the other on the backside of jongin’s thigh. the act is blind as he feels jongin stumble backward, but he doesn't need to see to know where he’s going.

      the door to the empty recording room is open, and kyungsoo shuts it behind them while his hands go just as wild as his lips do against jongin’s. jongin’s lip is in between kyungsoo’s teeth when kyungsoo’s fingers draw forward under the waist band of jongin’s sweats. jongin’s hands rest on kyungsoo’s shoulders, and kyungsoo thinks he can feel them trembling. he doesn't know if it’s because of the sudden cold on jongin’s bare legs or not, but jongin’s head is down in his neck again, letting kyungsoo leave a trail of kisses down the back of his neck. he feels the vibration of a whimpering sound on his lips, and he presses jongin back, supporting his back on the wall as his hands hoist jongin upward. jongin’s hands are trembling, and kyungsoo’s worried that the door is closing again, that he’s gone over jongin’s already pressured limits.

      “jongin,” he murmurs against jongin’s bitten lips, leaving a small amount of space in between himself and jongin, enough room to answer.

      “i’m fine,” jongin says in an exhale, head dropping like his visibly falling confidence as it turns into submission, and kyungsoo just wishes he knew how to make everything more bearable. “don’t stop.”

      kyungsoo doesn’t. jongin is still skyward as kyungsoo leaves only one article of clothing left on him, revealing all of his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his back, everything he’s worked for, golden. if jongin isn't roused yet, he is when kyungsoo brushes his hand over his very lowest stomach, touching ever so slightly against his most sensitive skin. he watches as jongin, eyes half closed, takes his lip in between his teeth, and sees subdued excitement take over his shadowed expression when he slips his hand underneath jongin’s underwear.

      and for as much as kyungsoo thought he might, jongin doesn't stop him. he doesn't protest when kyungsoo lowers him down to lay on the completely cleared table that remains unused, or when kyungsoo takes his own clothes off; then, jongin just breaths as his hands remain tensed against the table. he doesn't say no when kyungsoo takes his previous trail of kisses down jongin’s stomach, letting jongin’s grasp the locks of his dark hair as a compass, or when kyungsoo lines himself up, looking in jongin’s glassy eyes with his hands on jongin’s waist. he doesn't ask kyungsoo to stop when he starts fucking him slowly, eyes unblinking as he holds up everything jongin can’t hold for himself.

      instead, jongin lets kyungsoo’s name fall from his lips in gasps that match their tempo and laxly tilts his head back as an opening for kyungsoo’s taking. kyungsoo does take, and he feels every one of his thrusts through jongin’s body under his, lips moving in words against jongin's skin, allayingly.

      _is this enough?_

 _will it ever be?_  
  
_do you feel okay?_

_you are beautiful._

      kyungsoo’s speed heightens, his chest just as tight as the feeling thats dropping in his stomach as he watches jongin’s face, his eyes wide and his expression spaciously out of focus, deplorably stunning. a muffled _thump_ sounds from jongin’s body against the table with every movement kyungsoo makes from inside him. each beat forces a withheld cry from jongin’s mouth, and kyungsoo can’t see why jongin hasn't told him to stop yet.

      “kyungsoo - _ah_ ,” jongin fails to finish his sentence, hands reaching down, one to grip kyungsoo’s forearm and the other to grip himself, and kyungsoo feels out of place in the midst of moving down to diminish jongin’s discomfort by the means of taking over and holding him up from the hard surface of the table.

      “what, jongin,” kyungsoo says, hearing his voice come out as a strained growl against the side of jongin’s face, “what? tell me.”

      and between the fast motions of his hips and of his hands against and in jongin’s body, he feels something wet fall from jongin’s cheek and onto his own, and a split second passes before a halted whine cuts itself out of jongin’s throat as he comes in the middle of them both.

      moments later, kyungsoo finishes himself halfheartedly; he wasn't thinking about himself in the first place. jongin lays still, and kyungsoo looks at him as if through a glass thats been clouded by a wet heat. it’s not clear anymore, like it ever had been. he can see jongin clearly enough, though, to see he isn't sinking back inside his cage like it’s the only thing he can do. no, he’s just still, eyes unblinkingly fixed on kyungsoo, and this time there’s something lighter in them. the blue is fading away, the brown is settling back in itself and letting itself personalize back over jongin’s melancholy expression.

      jongin lets kyungsoo pull him up when he tries, and jongin lets him tug his t-shirt over his head after he picks it up from the floor where he’d tossed it. he does not fight when kyungsoo doesn't put his own hoodie on, only to pull it around jongin’s shoulders.

      outside, kyungsoo indulges himself in a hand implicitly around jongin’s waist; jongin’s head hangs slightly by his. kyungsoo whispers,

      “you are enough.”

 


End file.
